“I had heard stories,” said the Professor. “I was reluctant to believe them.”
“Why?”
“Well—er— You know—one expects——”
“That every man will do his duty.”
“It is hardly a subject for satire,” said the Professor.
René exploded:
“Good God! What else is it a subject for? England expects? Does the whole duty of man consist in self-mutilation? Why, then, the noblest man is he who shirks every responsibility, let his mind rot and his feelings wither, so that he can attain a devilish efficiency at the job into which he tumbles before he has begun to develop enough to know what he can do. These are your successful men, your pundits, your Lord Mayors, your merchant princes, your politicians——”
“My dear Fourmy, I think you should recollect that you hardly gave yourself time to recognize what Thrigsby stands for, the greatest industrial center in the world.”
“I had time enough to realize what it has done for my father, my mother, my brother, and myself.”